


Boundaries

by orphan_account



Series: #OlicityWatch [2]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Donna Smoak (flashbacks), F/M, No Plot, No Romance, POV Felicity, Social Media, but it still fails the Bechdel Test, ex-whatevers, just people talking to each other, no Oliver, no resolutions, references to unresolved sexual tension, women talking to each other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-26
Updated: 2017-02-26
Packaged: 2018-09-26 23:38:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9931169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Background scenes from Truths and Consequences. Felicity's point-of-view. Short snippets - really just character sketches.





	1. Felicity and Curtis

**Author's Note:**

> These are some short sketches that I wrote while I was working on Truths and Consequences. Their purpose was to help me find Felicity's voice and viewpoint, given that the main fic is strictly from Oliver's (very limited) point of view.
> 
> Chapter 1 takes place before any of the events of Truths and Consequences.

Felicity understands, now, what valuable lessons she learned from her mother. She hadn’t understood when she was thirteen – then, she was all _Mom, if Dad were here, HE would be able to help me with Fourier transforms_ or _integrating by parts with trig functions_ or maybe something else, not that it matters any more. What matters is that her mother – with her push-up bras and skin-tight dresses and drunk, handsy, married patrons declaring their undying love – taught her the importance of boundaries.

And she needs those lessons now that she’s spending her nights, again, with Oliver. In the euphemistic slip-of-the-tongue way, not in the cuddling-together-after-mind-blowing-sex way, not that she thinks about the second way. Not very often. And when she does, she shuts it down, because Felicity’s mother also taught her the importance of honesty, and how absolutely wrong lies are, especially in relationships.

Felicity has also put careful boundaries around the knowledge that her mother was actually lying to her, that entire time, about why her father wasn’t around to teach her about Fourier transforms.

*****

  
“Felicity?” Curtis sounded as though he had been trying to get her attention for a while.

“Hmm?” Felicity looked around. The adaptation of her facial recognition software had barely started compiling. She hadn’t been day-dreaming for too long. “What’s up?”

“I was just telling you about something from Paul’s Facebook group. But if you’re busy...”

“No, I was just...” She waved her hand. Curtis would understand.

“I thought you might want to see this.” He pulled up Facebook on his tablet.

Felicity cringed. Facebook was for people who barely knew her in her college goth phase, telling her about their combined job-child-things. Not the best social media for someone with a secret identity.

“Definitely not. But Paul doesn’t have a secret identity, and he has a lot of friends from college. So it’s good for him.” Curtis knew to just roll with it when Felicity’s brain-to-mouth filter broke down.

“So his group shares photos of... is that Oliver?”

Curtis nodded. “His friends are obsessed. ‘Mayor McHottie,’ they call him.”

Felicity scrolled through the photos. Paul’s friends weren’t wrong. That man could rock a suit. Or a pair of jeans. Or pretty much anything.

“Hey, you said it,” Curtis responded. “But if you could look at the rest of the scene for a moment...”

Felicity looked, and finally figured out the point. “He’s here. Or near here. In all the photos.”

“Exactly,” Curtis said. “Paul’s friends are speculating about what he’s doing here so much.”

“Well, he’s on his way to the...” Felicity stopped. “Oh. The Arrow cave.”

“I thought you didn’t call it that?”

“He doesn’t. I do.” She scrolled through more of the pictures. “That could be a problem. He doesn’t have a good reason for being here any more.”

“He doesn’t,” Curtis agreed. “Except...” He opened another window.

Felicity read through the posts. “They think... seriously? No!”

Curtis shrugged. “Paul thinks you’re getting back together. He keeps asking me for inside info.”

“But we’re not together. We’re working together, but we’re not together, together. We have very clear boundaries.”

“Mmmm-hmmm,” Curtis said, scrolling the other window to another photo. “Because most co-workers look like that when their ex-whatever brings them sushi.”

“I really like sushi,” Felicity argued. But she could see the point. She scrolled through the comments on the photo. “Though that actually makes a pretty good alibi for him.”

“He could use one,” Curtis said. “There are pictures of him everywhere. Instagram, Twitter... you could probably piece together his entire day. The photos are all time-stamped and geotagged.”

Felicity was already on it. “I didn’t know he ran out of coffee already,” she said, looking at photos of Oliver going into, and then out of, the coffee shop, carrying a bag of beans. “And he walks to the office sometimes. I didn’t know that either.”

“Bet you could write an Oliver-tracking algorithm...”

“I’m already on it.” The screen flashed with little red dots – she could edit the color later – that traced paths from Oliver’s new apartment to City Hall, from City Hall to various businesses and photo-ops, and especially to the lair. Arrow cave. Bunker. Whatever.

“Looks like he goes missing every night for about six hours,” Curtis pointed out. “Anyone could figure out that the mayor and the Green Arrow are never seen at the same time, anywhere in the city.”

“Anyone with my skills could figure that out,” Felicity said. “Which isn’t that many people.”

“It would just take one supervillain,” Curtis warned.

“Fine,” Felicity said. She downloaded the photo of Oliver handing her sushi, dumped it into an editing program, adjust the background, moved their bodies just a bit, and...

“Wow. Looks like the mayor was on a date.” Curtis sounded impressed.

“At the same time that the Green Arrow was taking down the guys selling bad concrete mix to people trying to rebuild,” Felicity said smugly.

“Could you change the time stamp and the geotag?”

“Do you seriously have to ask?” Felicity typed something quickly, then spun away from the computer. “Ta-da.”

Curtis slid into the desk. “Let me drive for a moment?”

Felicity nodded. “Though don’t tell Oliver that I let you onto Twitter on my workstation.”

“Never.” Curtis typed a few things. “Nice. Even the hidden metadata is fixed. May I post it?”

“Be my guest.” Felicity watched over his shoulder and gestured at the name. “That’s you?”

“One of me. I’ve got a bunch of secret identities on the Internet.” Curtis typed a few more things.

“Curtis, are you a troll?”

“Never.” He held up his hands to show that they were empty. Which made no sense given the accusation, but Felicity just went with it. “But sometimes you don’t really want to be an Olympic decathlete when you’re talking about Battlestar Galactica, you know?”

Felicity shrugged. “Fair enough.” She frowned at the screen. “You tagged it #OlicityWatch?”

“Paul's already using that on Facebook.”

Hundreds of retweets later, it was a thing. And Felicity had her own secret Twitter identity. And had a program running in the background that combed through social media for pictures of Oliver and plotted his location on a map. To create better alibis. Not for stalking her ex-whatever.

Felicity understood about boundaries, she reminded herself as she edited another photo, remembering what it had felt like when Oliver had actually done _that thing that they didn't talk about_. She understood boundaries. She just didn’t always know where they should be.


	2. Felicity, Lyla, and Baby Sara

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felicity and Lyla talk about tech. And boys. Or something like that. Set before the beginning of Truths and Consequences.

“...and I think that the tweak will make the missile security more, you know, secure, but I’m going to need to simulate some attacks on the simulated missiles before it’s ready for the prime time. Or for secret government agencies. Or for keeping the world safe from screw-up hackers.” Felicity carefully maneuvered another bunch of Sara’s hair into the braid.

“It doesn’t need to be perfect,” Lyla said. “Just better than what we have right now.”

“Better as in _oh, this only killed tens of thousands of people and left a smoking, radioactive pit in West Virginia_ kind of way?” Felicity tugged a little too hard on Sara’s hair. Sara, bad-ass-in-training that she was, just winced and gave Felicity an adorable glare.

“Better as in _saving millions of people,_ ” Lyla corrected her. “ARGUS works in the real world, not in absolutes. You know that.”

Felicity nodded and wrapped an elastic around the end of the tiny braid.

Lyla sipped her wine. “So, how are things going with Oliver?”

“Hey, you just ruined our Bechdel Test moment!” Felicity finished tying a ribbon in Sara’s hair. Sara immediately pulled it out.

“It’s not much of a change of conversation. You know that ARGUS tracks Oliver. It’s a great way to know about future threats before they happen.” 

Felicity accepted the ribbon when Sara offered it to her, and started tying it again. “It would be even better if Oliver would, you know, TELL us things.”

Lyla shrugged. “It’s Oliver.” As if that were enough explanation for anyone. “And now that he’s mayor, he’s easier to track than ever. Lots of chatter on social media."

Felicity’s hands stilled. “ARGUS is on, what, Twitter? Like the National Weather Service?” Sara wriggled her head, and Felicity started tying the bow again.

Lyla laughed. “We don’t post. But it’s a great place to learn what’s going on before the major media catch on. And when your friends are public figures, it’s a good way to find out that they’re getting back together before they tell you.”

“We’re not getting back together.” Felicity yanked too hard on the ribbon and had to undo the knot that appeared. 

“I know ‘getting back together’ when I see it. Remember, I had a baby with the man I divorced. But it’s pretty obvious – even the ARGUS analysts have commented.”

“The pictures are fake.” Felicity finally succeeded in tying the bow. “Ta-da!”

“Ta-da!” Sara repeated, and pulled the ribbon out to give to Felicity again.

“The metadata all check out. And the time and place cross-reference with the shape of the shadows, the analysts tell me.” Lyla, who was never over-confident, seemed sure of her information.

“Of course they match,” Felicity said, starting another bow in Sara’s hair. “I know what I’m doing.”

Lyla looked at her. “First, you know you have a job any time you want one.” 

Felicity nodded. Lyla had made that clear from the moment she was fired by Palmer Tech. Or at least, from the first moment when the end of the world wasn’t about to happen. Which actually had taken a while.

“Second,” Lyla gave her a hard look. “If you’re the one making those photos, we need to talk about being honest.”

Felicity looked guilty. “I know that I shouldn’t be angry with him about lies when I’m doing this.”

Lyla shook her head. “I’m not talking about being honest with him. I’m talking about being honest with yourself.”


	3. Felicity and Lyla

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felicity and Lyla talk some more. They continue to fail the Bechdel Test. Takes place during chapter 2 of Truths and Consequences, just after Felicity moved to Lyla's place.

Another thing Felicity has realized that her mother taught her: women need to take care of themselves, and each other, because nobody else is going to do it.

The day before Felicity left for MIT, her mother took her out for a manicure and a talk. The manicure, Felicity knew was special: this weird way of introducing her to women’s armor before taking her awkward 15-year-old body across the country to surround her brain with computers. The talk... Felicity’s mom always talked. About her customers at the casino. About the headlines on the latest tabloids. About crazy tourists, when Felicity and her mom took the bus to the Strip for her mom to go to work.

But today, the talk was about boys. Not gossiping about how cute one was (because seriously, would her mom never stop trying to set Felicity up with Joey from down the street, who was a cute kid with braces and a bike five years ago?). It was about all the things a girl on her own needed to be careful of – about keeping mace on a key chain in her purse, and recognizing roofies, and especially watching out for guys who were so smart and would seduce you with their brains and their big words and their crazy dreams of changing the world. And how you always needed to protect yourself, body and heart.

Felicity wasn’t really sure what the point was, and her nails were really red when she got on the plane. So when she got to Boston, she found a used clothing store, some cheap black hair dye, and created her own type of armor. Which totally failed, because she hadn’t really listened to the part about protecting her heart.

 *****

Felicity was putting together her computer set-up when Lyla returned from delivering Oliver to the loft.

“So,” Lyla asked, “are you okay?”

Felicity pulled a CPU out of a box and laughed. “I just moved out of my apartment, where my ex-fiancé is pretending to have moved back in with me, because the Russian mob may be targeting me because my ex-fiancé won’t appoint one of their cronies to the commission that just rejected my proposal for a new factory in the Glades.” She put the computer on the floor and started unpacking a monitor. “The sad thing is, I was starting to be okay. The business has been great – Curtis and I have ideas, which turn into plans, which give us more new ideas. And I could finally see where it could do some good – where I could make a difference. And for the first time in ages, I was doing something worthwhile that wasn’t tied to my sex life, or fantasy sex life.” Felicity pulled some cables out of another box. “Here, could you put these on that table?” 

Lyla took the cables from her. “That makes sense.”

“And I was starting to feel like I could trust Oliver. He wasn’t hiding things from me, he was giving me space when I needed it, he was respecting the things I wanted to accomplish, he was asking me for ideas... it felt like we could really be partners. Like I believed, before, you know.” Felicity started connecting cables to her monitor.

Lyla nodded. “And now you’re annoyed that he’s trying to protect you, when you were being his partner?”

“It’s not that. Well, mostly not that. It’s... does it seem like there’s something that Oliver isn’t telling us about the Bratva business?” She reached over and plugged in the CPU.

“Oliver has always worked on a need-to-know basis.” Lyla sounded cautious.

Felicity gave her a look. “So you think something’s weird, too.”

Lyla shrugged. “I think that Oliver’s past is still hard for him to think about or talk about. It’s not that unusual.”

“But it affects other people now. Shouldn’t those other people know what’s going on? And be part of the decisions that he’s making?”

“I don’t think you’re talking about the Bratva threat any more,” Lyla observed.

“Does it matter if I’m not? There’s this pattern – something happened to Oliver in the past. He has to deal with it now. He won’t tell anyone what’s going on, and goes off and makes his own decisions...”

“For the record, I think Oliver made a mistake when he didn’t tell you about William,” Lyla said. “If only because the world’s best surveillance programmer would have been a great asset for keeping William safe. Oliver was a fool not to use the resources he had access to, whatever ridiculous demands Samantha made. But that’s not what’s going on now.”

Felicity frowned. “The problem is that I don’t know what’s going on now. But you’re right about one thing. I’ve got skills that we need to solve the problem.” She pulled a keyboard out of a box. “And I’m going to use them.”


	4. Felicity and Lyla

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felicity and Lyla. Takes place during Chapter 2 of Truths and Consequences. Implied lying within otherwise perfect relationships.

Lyla was just ending a Skype call with Sara when Felicity walked into the apartment. Felicity leaned over Lyla’s shoulder, blew Sara a goodnight kiss, and went to put away the extra bags of coffee while Lyla finished her goodbyes. Finally, Lyla leaned back with a sigh.

“How’s she doing?” Felicity asked. “It’s got to be hard having her away.”

“She has five teenaged cousins who take turns playing with her. And it’s only been two days. This is still a game for her. And my brothers are all older, so everyone misses having a toddler to play with. They’re good... for now.” Lyla got up, went the kitchen, and poured two glasses of wine.

Felicity followed her. “I wish I had better leads on what’s going on, so we could fix everything and she could come back. Or at least figure out what the threat is, so we knew what we needed to do. I hate feeling helpless.”

Lyla shrugged and handed Felicity a glass. “You can’t always solve every problem.”

Felicity sat down on the couch and sighed. “How do you do it? Stay so... calm. So in control. All the time. It’s got to be hard, without John, isn’t it?”

Lyla sat beside her. “It certainly isn’t easy. But my entirely family is military. My brothers were shipped out when their kids were small. You manage.”

“But this wasn’t what you planned to get into.” Felicity paused. “This might be way too personal, especially after only a sip of wine, but I’ve always wondered. How did you end up getting pregnant? I mean, obviously I know how it works, but so do you. And John always seems so correct and responsible.”

Lyla laughed. “Oh, he is. When he’s not tying himself up in knots because he can’t figure out what’s right.” She took a sip of her wine. “Which is why I had my IUD taken out without telling him.”

“What?” Felicity was shocked.

Lyla shrugged. “I was thirty-two. I knew I wanted to have a baby, and I was worried that it would be too late if I put it off until I knew how things with him would work out. I didn’t know how Johnny would react, but I knew he was a good man and I wanted him to be the father of my child. So I ended the birth control.”

“Wow,” Felicity said. “That’s... risky. Weren’t you worried that he would be mad?”

“A little,” Lyla admitted. “But Johnny was learning a lot from working with Oliver. Becoming less single-minded, more forgiving of all sorts of transgressions. I thought, eventually, he’d be able to deal with the greyness of the world.”

“Still. That’s... wow.”

“There are worse things than being a single mom,” Lyla said.

Felicity nodded. Her mother, she knew, would agree.


End file.
